This was Nobby's last weekend as a Scotland resident before ill-advisedly heading back down sarf - and what better way of spending it other than some top quality sliding down the glorious white stuff somewhere in the Cairmgorms...

We all piled up on Friday night and illiegally camped in the Bongo and a couple of my tents somewhere in the outskirts of Aviemore - being midummer in Scotland it didnt really get properly dark and we set outside drinking tescos finest imported lagers for a while .Don Juan's eyelids and facial muscles were the first to capitulate, although the rest of him took another ten minutes or so before giving up and retreating to the Bongo luxury roof apartment, Nobski and Alex weren't far behind which left Lynn and me to talk shite, drink honey vodka and cheap beers until 2.30 when it was starting to get noticably lighter.

So, with head pounding and guts feeling like a pair of old curtains in a top loading washing machine, we headed up to the ski centre after the usual morning rituals:
Bacon Sarnies
Don Juan Faff
Causing major bio-chemical weapon alert in Aviemore public bog
More Don Juan Faff
Watching red squirrels

it turned out that winterhighland.com had been organising some sort of midsummer mad skiing session, so we weren't the only eejits heading up through the barren rocky wastes of the out of season ski centre though quite a few folk heading for the train were giving us 2nd looks as we delved amongst the piles of old socks, ebay skis and other semi-retired equipment which had avalanched out of the back door of my car - eventually after a geologically measured faffing time, we were ready to march up through the ski centre in a hopeful hunt for skiable snow patches - stopping en route for the traditional filming moments ("I've been walking 500 yards and I'm bolloxed already" etc etc)

The summit of Cairngorm was clear - a great view over to Ben Macdui (complete with large-ish skiable snow patch) and down Corrie Raibert which didnt seem to have a skiable snow patch - so we decided to head east into Marquis Well where some of the winterhighland bods had confided the legendary status of a skiable 100m snowslope...

It was ace! 20 people of various shapes, sizes, ages and skiing and boarding abilities - the slope was like a steepish red run section and teh snow was old sugary stuff which was surprisingly easy to ski on - the 5 minute trudge back up the slope wasn't

Alex spent the afternoon flying off the kicker (yes, someone had spent a couple of hours building one) before having a bit of a domestic with Lynn and heading back to the top station cafe for some emergency pit stop coffee - Nobski probably skied the most, Don Juan did a spectacular leave-the-skis-behind wipeout before sliding the lower snow slope backwards headfirst into wet peat

Ace - and there's still some crazy isolated snow patches in them there hills!

This was the plan on Sunday, I would teach Nobby the finer arts of ski touring, using choice members of the lounge ski squadron equipped with climbing skins hired from Braemar Mountain Sports - we would be loaded up with good quality mountain food and we would be well kitted out and have the correct Braemar and Blair Atholl map for a tour up Glas Maol...

What could possibly go wrong?

1. Leave all copies of the correct map at home and replace with a large pile of assorted maps from other parts of Scotland, Norway and Deimos teh smaller moon of Mars

2. Leave the pies in the bunkhouse kitchen!

3. Dont pre-check the equipment

4. Have an argument in the car park as to the potential paint damage caused by parking too close

The weather was ace though - wind still, a bit of hill-fog which was gradually lifting exposing the whole of Glenshee under gorgeous winter blue skies... so we decided to keep to edge of the Sunnsyide area and head up to Glas Maol - invloves 2 small 100m ascents and descents before a 300m ascent up to the summit - Nobby took to x country skiing like a Russian to vodka and really found the correct skinning up technique very quickly - lardarse me couldnt keep up! One of the downsides to ski touring is taking teh skins off on a up-down-up-down-up tour like at Glenshee so there was always un peu faffage at the start of each descent - the first one was easy - even for Nobby on his first ever day telemarking - teh second descent was a total nightmare - there was a gorgeous run from the Meall Odhar top down to teh foot of the Glas Maol run - loads of unpisted powder snow for us to make flowing ssss shapes in as we turned gracefully down the fall-line...

Ah - there were quite a few Nobby and MJ sized craters after the 45 minutes it took us to get down 100m of steepish red-run - Nobby was started to stress a bit as his performance expectation suddenly turned a wee bit Portsmouth to Port Vale - i couldnt work out why I was finding it so difficult to get the turns in after the first five or so - Nobby was down about 10 minutes before me and thenI lost a ski completely - the quick release binding had come undone again (funny that since I hadnt fixed it since the last time 2 years ago - note to self - smack head with large cast-iron frying pan) - there was even a small party of ski tourers at the foot of the Glas Maol run watching our flailing performance with much amusement

So under clearing skies, in a still wind at the foot of Glas Maol with Nobby being addled in telemark-frustration and me being an unfit sweaty mess with a stoat's kidney for a brain, we set back off up Meall Odhar, Nobby - 100 ski steps per rest and me about 13 - finding some easier unpisted runs to turn gracefully down avoiding the fall-line and spotting numerous white coated snow hares on the way...

We still had time for Nobby to get his proper skis on and for both of us to have a go at the Tiger - the steep run down from the summit of Cairnwell - it got quite cold in the queue for the Nosal style single chairlift but it was totally worth it - even if my right ski fell off just after getting on because i hadnt done up the binding correctly

It was a fantastic way to spend an ace day and atone for the silliness of a few hours earlier - the snow was truly alpine - and it was ace to get down with just one miniscule insignificant wipe out...

More snow on the way - the Pentlands were still white at sundown tonight so hopefully there'll be some comedy moonlight action this week....

After half a week of on-off-on snow in Edinburgh and weather warnings and blocked roads on Friday night, me and Nobby headed up to Glanshee in the replacement tazmobile - the journey up was quite exciting - the last few miles up from Blairgowrie was a minefield of deep slush filled potholes which if you hit at anything more than 5mph they turned into geysirs of slush up the windscreen and over the roof followed by 10 seconds of zero visibility, after the 15th time it got a bit scary

The road was closed at the Spittal of Glenshee but the bunkhouse was on the snow-free side - the road was supposed to be open at 6am but the powers that be in various council incompetence departments meant that at 9am there was a 2 mile queue of cars all waiting for the cops to turn up, perform a risk assessment and publish in 15 well known languages including Old Icelandic, Sumerian and C++, open the gate and convoy drive up the pass to the ski centre- it's times like that which make you wonder how Scotland actually manages to have a tourist industry...

Despite the initial chaos, the Glenshee folk pulled out all the stops and about half the runs were open - me and Nobby spent the rest of the day zooming down the various blue and green Sunnyside runs (remember that the standard piste grades get a bit superfluous in Scotland due to the usual splattering of icy patches, rocks, bewildred ptarmigans etc etc) - the conditions were good old Scottish - a full-on blizzard at times with relative calm periods of wind-blown ice bits interspersed with the sound of lonely snowhares looking for a casserole dish

After a quick stop for curry pie - we headed over to the Cainwell side, where unfortunately we got stuck in a queue for the access button lift behind an inpatient dad and his young son who hadnt quite mastered the art of button lift riding - that'll be another child put off winter sports for life then - the day was all set up for a grandstand finish until Nobby skied full speed into a snow drift and lost one of his contac lenses in the resultant face plant - I still got beaten down the final red run by a semi blind, curry pie exhaling lardarse

Ace day!

Q: What do you do when you and your mates are staying in wet Fort William and the morning dawn's bright and frosty...
A: You jump in the rusty old van and you all head to Aviemore...

This trip was a reprieve of Dr. Al's world famous in Macclesfield Wierdos of Telemark film from the last days of 2005 - though this time we had an extended crew:

Dr. Al - filmmaker and slalom skier on ebay skis from the lounge
Nobbski - slalom skier on his own skis
Dr Mike - slalom skier on hire skis from the red squirrel bacon sarney house at Loch Morlich
Dr Lindsay - telemark skier on the waaaaaaay-too long green lounge skis and ebay plastic telemark boots
Dr Emily - learner slalom skier on the hire skis from the bacon sarney house
Me - on waaaaay too short red lounge telemark skis

After having a beautiful cold blue sky journey complete with icy skids on Loch Laggan-side and almost head on with the psycho truck drivers of Kinguisie, the bacon sarney man informed us that the ski centre was shutting lift sales due to capacity being reached - that didnt matter - we would be walking up of course - if we factored in the usual faff time we might get some skiing done before sundown, in October 2354 - so this time we had to limit faffing to a mere 45 minutes - just enough for me to realise that I'd left my rucksac back at base - that didnt matter - I'd just empty the festering undergarments, damp swimming towel and other souvenirs out of a random sports bag and carry that up instead

It took us about an hour and a half to trudge up through the icy and gravelly zig zags - and about another 20 minutes was wander up the footpath to the summit of Cairngorm - following the new year crowds of train passengers past the sign telling them not to proceed beyond this point?

After battering a few strolling families and invading hordes of aliens out of the way, we all assembled just off the summit - before donning the skis and sliding off down the hill into oblivion

Wipe out the day went to Dr Al for leaving the skis behind him after not realising that snow is generaly accepted to be a variant of the colour white, and gravel is usually the colour of gravel and Dr Al skin layers

Ski instructor manouver of the day has to to go to Nobbski for his ski backwards - teach Emily to wipe out technique

Yee - ha 2008 skiing season has started!

Saturday was supposed to be another trip up to the 'Gorms - and actually get to do a really good qulaity ski tour, gain some endomorphins, lose some lard etc. However, I awoke (late) to the news that blizzards over the Highlands had blocked some of the access roads like the Blairgowrie/Braemar road, the A9 at Drummochter etc. I was tempted just to head to the pub and watch the bound to be thrilling afternoon that was England vs. Italy and Scotland/Wales - however just when I was thinking about rugby at Murrayfield, I had a sudden flashback to 2000 when just before my ML course, I'd decided to head down to the featureless Borders country to get some (well needed) mountain navigation practice... That was the day when England were already 5 nations champions and just had to give those hopeless wooden spooners, the Scots a good seeing-to at Murrayfield. I remember wandering around Windlestraw Law with the then GF, counting steps, losing the compass, thinking that the mighty Martin Johnson's boys would be finding it difficult if the same blizzard was down in the city (they did and Scotland won!)...

So at about 11am, I made the impulse decsion to stick the old Dynastar old style skinny skis and leather boots in the car and had SOUTH to the hilly country just 15 miles away, which judging by the forecasts must have enough white stuff to do a tour...

Driving there was exciting enough, the roads were all clear heading towards the Borders on the A7 road, the side road to Innerleithen was clear too, until...

I went round a bend and straight into a whiteout and unploughed road... This is the sort of thing which used to freak me out but living in Norway for a while at least gave me a bit of exerience of snow driving (and a few snowy ditch visits and off-road escapades) so I turned up Baccara Yessir I can Boogie and motored on...

Windlestraw Law is a flat topped bog of about 650m high and the highpoint of the road is about 400m most of the ascent is straight from the parking place. So I sorted out the skis in the shelter of the back seat then bravely strode out into the elements only to get 100%splattered with slush from a passing car out for another snowy drive. Ace! I put my skis on and fishbone style staggered up through the show covered heather, complete with mistery holes until the wind swept plateau where I gave up all pretentions of doing a real back country ski tour, sang a quick rendition of the Grand Old Duke of York to the camera (having forgot that there's no sound) and hightailed it down the most snow covered part of the hill, a land rover track... wiping out at all opportunities. Damm those leather boots and the ancient skis! (Bad workmen etc rule appiles to telemark skiers too)

Still - if the cold weather keeps up I might go back there after work sometime this week....

After last weekend's aceness, yesterday was a disaster...
The cunning plan was to stay in on Friday night and not go to the pub - get up early, grab our already-packed kit, load up the ultra-relaible Suzuki jeep and head up north for a flat-mates skiing session. It didnt all go wrong from the start as we actually managed to stay in - however the amount of faffing in the morning was at least European championship standard, if not Olympic - despite alarms going off at 6.15 - it was still 9.30 when we departed the house in the wrong direction.

Back on course, we cruised out of town - heading out towards the Forth Bridge - where my co-pilot noticed the subterranean level of the fuel guage. This, being a regular occurence did not have me undully worried, until I remembered that there are no motorway services until half-way to Perth - so an unscheduled half-hour tour round Dunfirmline led to a dilapidated Jet garage which only had 2 working pumps and a long queue of vehicles. After a full tank, the mild engine coughing and spluttering had turned to a serious case of vehicle TB - it's quite disconcerting when, foot on the floorboards, there's massive backfire whilst you are in the motorway slow lane doing 30 with some bloke in a van doing 70 bearing down on your arse.

Disconcerting say I. Downright dangerous say most. However, there was skiing to do so we pressed on.

3 hours later, we were at Aviemore, where we drooped the house Legal Department off to do a walk around Rothiemurcus woods. That's when the fun started, the car struggling to make it uphill from Glenmore Lodge, 100metres at a time between huge backfires, exhaust clouds and engine conk-outs. It got windy, the blue skies of our morning's travels turned into an icy cairngorm wind and clouds closed in on the tops. I tried to summon up a Monkey! cloud by blowing on my hands but alas 1970s japanese tv shows didnt seem to change the reality of the situation: my £166 car is a bag o'shite!

Eventually, after a couple of long stops, oil checks, shouting, swearing and kicking of wheels, we arrived at the full ski centre car park, though there was a steady stram of traffic coming down.

It was about half-two, it had taken us 5 hours to do the 100 mile journey - but at least we were kitted out and raring to get on the slopes - I was desperately trying not to think of the lift pass costs, when a bloke gave me 2 passes "Here - have these - it's fooking shite up there!" (insert Inverness accent) - so we got on the controversial train and headed up into good old fashioned Scottish skiing conditions: ice bits fresh from the plateau , carried by gale force winds right into your face. Personal Service. Ace.

We did a couple of ridiculous runs - wind, snow, ice and gloom before the clever-wish-I'd-thought-of-it-sooner plan:let's get the flock out of here and head somewhere sheltered. The runs lower down were considerably more pleasant - you could see more than a metre and could hear people beyond the wind howl around your gore-tex hood and the constant chatter of multiple personalities somewhere in the sub-consious. However, just as we were getting into the telemark-sving of things, the management in their infinite let's keep the customers happy sort of style , suddenly closed all the lifts for no apparent reason and everyone was forced down despite the complaints, arguments ang general ill-feeling (* there must be some sort of economic model based on having a limited customer base of gullible scumbags such as myself). So that was it, 5 hours up, 3 hours back (car seemed to go better downhill) - just for 2 runs in a whiteout, 3 lower down and two trips up a t bar.

Skiing next weekend anyone?

Woke up this morning after a long broke-in-January thing to do (watching telly all night) - complete with eye and brain ache... took a look at the ski conditions on winterhighland.com and made a snap decision to get up to Glencoe. The drive along the M9 to Stirling was inspiring - with sun shining off the snow on the Ochills, Ben Ledi, Vorlich etc. Of course, the weather had turned by the time I'd back-fired and stuttered myself to Crianlairich - and all the usual sights like Ben More, Ben Lui and Ben Dorain were lost in the cloud. Half of Scotland it seemed had been better organised tham me and got their arses up to Glencoe in good time - the carpark which usually has tumbleweed and ptarmigan ghosts caressing its dusty wastes was jam packed - so that every passing place along the access road was full too. Road and car park rage led to lift queue rage - I dont think I've ever seen so many folk in a Scottish ski centre - it was like Easter in Norway and French half term combined - and stuffed into Glencoe's creaking centre. Still - it's a thousand times better than watching telly all day, hoovering or doing the self assesmnet tax form. The turns all came back - which felt ace - despite the blizzard and zero visibility. I'd only managed 3 short runs on the middle section - each with about a 20 minute wait at the t bar or the rickety old one man lift - I was witness to the day's bizzare happening when some boarder got hung up by his rucksack - they stopped the lift, leaving him hanging for a while before he unclipped the sack and got down by standing on his mates shoulders...that old chair caught me out once when I fell onto the emergency stop button - in front of an impatient lift queue of short tempered Weegies - the hung up boarder escaped lightly with a cheesy grin!

The last hour was ace - the conditions improved - you could SEE! It was the usual inspiring end of day trip - got down from the top the centre to the car park with two wipe outs - one a wendy version was just me being crap - the second was ace - did the Haggis Trap jump at full speed and landed on my arse - which is an improvement on last time I went to Glencoe and wimped out.

So the winter has arrived... hope to get back up to the snow again as soon as possible. I spent the journey home backfiring and stuttering and dreaming of fresh new trips - hopefully some proper backcountry and not piste posing!

OK so global warming has made the Scottish winters grey, wet and depressing - spare a thought for our poor Nordic cousins the other side of the North Sea - they have less daylight hours than us for longer during the winters - and the only thing preventing them from copying their cute rodent friends, the lemmings and finding a large cliff to jump off, is the presence of snow - makes everything so much lighter and truly uplifting. Also good to ski on.

So I was over in Oslo last weekend for the first time in 2 years - supposedly selling Walkabout trips to the norskies by wandering around the reiseliv2007 trade fair dressed in a kilt - which made the commute from Lier to Lillestrom through grey, rainy, miserable Oslo slightly odd. However when I came out of the hall a few hours later, 10cms of snow had fallen...

So a slighty madcap scheme was hatched which involved paying a visit to Steinar up in Hallingdal and persuading Rune (who looked like he needed sunshine, snow, exercise anyway) to drive. Of course, by managing to visit Erik and Stine in Asker and Line in Lier all in the space of a few days, it did turn out to be quite a mad trip. I dont think Rune was quite impressed with my "oh its only a few hours" speech when in fact it took us nearly 5 - but then we did stop for "polse" - norwegian hot dogs on the way

It was ace - and I managed to make film too....

Droooper trip New Year 06/07...
the drinking, poker games and take over of DJ Purple Haze's dancefloor was legendary. The weather was not. Braemar is supposed to be the most snow-sure spot in Scotland, it even has a shop selling telemark skis and yet we were force to endure 6 days of rain, mountain biking wipeouts and dodgy walks up Aberdeenshire hills into hurricane force sleet storms...

having said that, the great tradition of rained off winter trips is that it always gets good just as you're heading back to the office/fertility clinic/meeting with probation officer etc. This new year was no exception and the 2nd Jan dawned bright and sunny with a distinct covering of white stuff above the 600m contour line.

So after taking the vast supply of bottles to the recycling, tying bikes, skis, cows, goats, chickens etc. to the car, searching the village for missing car keys, untying aforementioned items, hiring HM customs and excise to take car apart, finding keys in coolbox, retying aforementioned items to the car, we were ready.

Glenshee was ace - covered in about 2cm of fresh snow on top of an almost frozen turn n' gravel base. The team consisted of the usual suspects - Nobby and Al on "old" slalom skis, me on Steinar sin blåski and Lindsay on the short red Tuas. Carn Asoda looked gorgously white and majestic (it usually looks like a big messy gravel strewn ski centre) above the centre - we all purposely strode carrying our skis for about 5 minutes - until it dawned on the crew that at least one of the team is an overweight undersexed illegitimate son of a travelling teatowel salesman. At that point, we all headed back down the green* run we had previously been staggering up to the nursery slope/kids sledge run where Nobby built a jump and got some big hair, Al made another film (see below) and got his ski legs back and Lindsay and I snowplowed our way into oblivion. Ski ee-aw.com returns!

I was going to keep this blog updated with all the skiing adventures of the latter part of the winter; the deep powder and tree adventures of Courchevel, returning to Scotland just in time for a real winter and another 7 weekends of skiing and larking around on the plateau, Glenshee and an absolute doss sliding about on the arse end of Ben Lawers...

but nah... that was then

However, I have just been on the first proper trip down Carlswark the Wonder Cavern for nearly a decade. Not much has changed, still muddy, stil a horrendous amount of stooping, crawling and oozing around in copious quantities of slime. In the dark.

It was ace! Although it was a shame I didnt see any cavers like the girls out of The Descent, I did have Nobby for company as well as a minor case of Weils disease!